


More Than a Little Obvious

by afractionof



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1464595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afractionof/pseuds/afractionof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is John Egbert and if you have to sit around the Strider’s apartment for one more day without something to cool you off, you’re going to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than a Little Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> Finally getting around to posting more of my things from tumblr over here. Same name. Might take me a while. 
> 
> The one inspired by Pepsi Floats. Which are rad, you should have one. With chocolate ice cream.

 Your name is John Egbert and if you have to sit around the Strider’s apartment for one more day without something to cool you off, you’re going to die.

Well, ‘die’ might be a little extreme but you’re definitely not going to be happy.

You’ve had the grand opening flyer for a new diner down the road stuffed into your wallet for the last week and Dave’s ditched you every time you’ve asked him to go. He’s busy taking summer classes at the college a few blocks over, you get that. But, you also get that he walks right by the place to get to school and it’s not really necessary to take an hour long shower, is it? It’s not like he’s got any lustrous locks to worry about thoroughly conditioning and if he didn’t want to go, he should just say so.

Slumping over, you wave a hand at him when he calls out a goodbye, once again leaving you to sit and debate how lame it’d be to go get a float by yourself.

People do that, right?

You could just walk down the street, stop in, grab one and go?

But, you bet they have air conditioning and if you’re going to get the float, you’re going to enjoy it while you don’t have sweat-soaked shorts cling to your butt.

Sighing, you slide a hand over to grab the flyer and jump when it’s snatched off the table.

Bro’s standing to your left, looking like his usual self but you don’t move. He’ll drop it eventually, probably grunt and go back to whatever he was doing before. You’ve gotten used to him appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as fast, leaving you to your own devices for most of the day and, right now, you don’t know if you really want to try and pry some conversation out of him.

Yeah, you like Bro and all, but sometimes you feel like a wall is more interested in chatting you up than he is and it’s a little discouraging, crush or no.

“I’ll go.”

“…what?”

Did you hear that right?

Sitting up, you frown at him, confusion pinching your brow and he shrugs, setting the paper on top of your head.

It slides off but you ignore it. It doesn’t really matter anyway, you’ve already memorized everything from the phone number right down to the little business stamp in the corner from the printer who made the flyer.

“…what?”

“I’ll go,” he repeats. “Unless you changed your mind.”

“No!” You stand, chair sliding out behind you and you wince at the shriek it makes against the linoleum. “Sorry, but, no. I definitely haven’t changed my mind.”

“Mm.”

You watch as he turns, patting his pockets and when he glances back, you can almost hear him asking if you’re just going to stand around or get your ass in gear and follow.

You don’t need telling twice and hurry after him as he leads the way out of the apartment and down to the street.

It’s a little easier to ignore the heat and the sun beating down on the sidewalk when Dave’s not bitching about it right beside you. Bro doesn’t say anything, just shoves his hands in his pockets and walks in silence and that’s fine with you.

To be honest, you don’t really have any idea what to say to him in the first place.

He’s Bro. He’s Dave’s bro. The guy with the smuppets and the porn site and the goofy anime shades that occasionally gets into prank wars with you. He’s pretty quiet unless you can catch him on Pesterchum and he kind of doesn’t really shut up there, which you’re not complaining about… it’d just be kind of cool to actually talk to him.

Like, talk out loud. In a conversational kind of way.

But, whenever you get the chance, he pulls his Strider poker face and your palms start to sweat and you’re pretty sure he can read every single idiotic thought you’ve ever had right on your forehead.

He can’t, obviously, otherwise he probably would have called you ages ago on the weird desire you’ve developed to kiss him. And hold his hand. And wear his hat.

“Hey.” You blink, looking around and turn when you notice he’s not beside you but a couple steps back, holding open the door to the diner. “Thought you wanted to come here.”

Your face heats and you spin on your heel, forcing a laugh. “Right, sorry. I think I zoned out there for a minute.”

“You think?”

He shakes his head, following you inside and when the cool air hits you, you forget about being embarrassed in favor of feeling like you’ve died and gone to heaven because you can already feel your sweat levels decreasing dramatically.

“Why don’t you have an air conditioner?”

“Don’t need one.”

You’re pretty sure he’s insane but it’s his place, unfortunately, and you don’t really have the money to go out and buy anything more than the fan he already gave to you so you let it drop. He probably hears enough of it from Dave anyway and you’re more interested in getting some ice cream than you are in having him tell you to shut your trap.

Stepping up to the counter, you look over the menu and your smile widens.

“They’ve got everything here.”

Beside you, he just nods to the girl waiting to take your order and you give her an apologetic smile. You hadn’t even heard her greet you. “Can I get a… Pepsi float?”

You’ve had Pepsi a few times but never with ice cream and you’re not really a huge fan of creamsicles in a cup unless the mood really strikes you. And root beer is standard. Everywhere has a root beer float.

“What kind of ice cream would you like?”

You think about that for a minute, rocking back on your heels and when Bro elbows you to hurry up, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Chocolate.”

“And you, sir?”

Bro just shakes his head and you dig out your wallet, dropping the cash in her palm with a smile. “Thank you.”

“You can pick it up at the end,” she tells you, pointing down to the far side of the counter. “Have a nice day.”

“You too!”

Bro follows you down and you take your float from the guy waiting at the end. There’s plastic spoons and straws set out and you grab one of each before weaving your way through the tables to a booth in the back, right next to the vent.

With a sigh, you sit down and pull the plastic off the spoon. “Why didn’t you get anything?”

“I did.”

You glance over, pausing. “What?”

He reaches over, sliding the cup to the middle of the table and picks up the straw. “I said I did.”

“You mean—“

“Yep.”

The wrapper comes flying off, hitting your cheek on its way and you can’t help but laugh. “You mean mine.”

“Yeah, basically.” Reaching out, you go to pull the cup back but his hand wraps around yours. “The hell are you doing?”

“Taking my float back? I can’t reach it in the middle of the table.”

“Hm.”

He doesn’t sound like he really believes you but he lets go, at least. You can just share, slide the cup back and forth and stuff like that or he can just get up and sit beside you. That works too, you guess. If he wants to do it the really awkward kind of way and all and—

“What are you doing?”

“Kid, are you gonna ask me that every time I move?”

“Maybe?”

You can pretty much feel him roll his eyes as his arm settles on the back of the seat behind you. “This is easier.”

Easier—right. Of course it’s easier.

But, when you stick the spoon into the cup and he leans down to take a drink, you catch the corner of his lips twitch into a brief smile and you’re not really sure that’s all it is. His arm is warm on the back of the seat and the AC doesn’t seem to be working as well as it was before and you’re almost ready to just get up and by him his own float when his fingers brush against your arm and it stops you in your tracks.

“You gonna ask me what I’m doin’ again?”

You might have before he asked or before his knee bumped against yours and his thumb took up smoothing back and forth over your arm but now?

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I don’t think so.”

And this time, his smile is a little more obvious when he takes a drink. It’s a little softer too and you definitely want to know what that’s about and maybe he really can read everything written all over your face.

“You’re kind of obvious,” he says, pulling you a little closer and, yeah, you guess you are. Especially when he turns and his lips brush over yours and you laugh. Your face heats and your cheeks burn, but that’s okay because he tastes like chocolate and soda and you think that’s kind of perfect in some weird way.

“I don’t think that’s really a bad thing, this time at least,” you mumble and he shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s definitely not a bad thing.”  


End file.
